The Reconciliation
by Asaki
Summary: One of my first Weiss Kreuz fics. Ken suddenly decides to leave, and the events that follow seem to be a repercussion of his decisions. Will he ever come back? [please mind that this was written w/out watching the series...please R&R!!!]
1. Ken's Disappearance

The soccer ball sat quietly on the bed, waiting, waiting. Waiting for someone to pick it up and kick it. Someone to use it to play soccer. Anyone, anyone at all. Just waiting.  
Sunlight streamed through the closed window. It was a fair day in September, and the leaves were just beginning to turn colors. The blue Gentian leaned towards the bright light, absorbing energy. Its radiant colors were the joy of Ken's hard work. The soil around the young stem was brittle, and it stood, waiting for the water that would quench its thirst. Ken never neglected to water his prize. And so it waited.  
But where was Ken? The soccer ball didn't know. And certainly the flower in its white and blue clay pot did not know. Not even Aya knew. The motorcycle, Ken, and some of his belongings were gone. Not a trace of life was left in his room.  
  
"Station 4," Ken told the cashier at the gas station. Paying for the gas, he left to the open road. Only he knew where he was going, and he didn't even know why he left. Things were getting to him, the nights, the days, the work. Everything. And he didn't know why.  
Goggles on, gloves on, bike on, he cruised down the seemingly interminable narrow road. There were no others for quite some time. The last vehicle, which was a blue station wagon, passed him in the other direction about fifteen minutes ago. He paused near a sign, then sped off.  
  
Omi checked his email constantly, waiting for a message of some sort to come in from Ken. Then he would get off and wait for a phone call. He only had one line, but Ken could always call Yoji or Aya. Yet Omi wasn't so sure he would try that if he didn't want to talk to them. They had had a row the other night on a mission. Omi thought perhaps that was why he left. Nevertheless, he knew he would forgive them in a moment's time. But why hadn't he returned?  
Aya was in his room, staring dully out into space. He didn't know why Ken had left, either, and also had the guilty feeling that it might've been his doing. He did not touch the phone, and waited, as the soccer ball, the flower, and Omi had waited.  
Yoji had lain down on the sofa about an hour ago, smoking a cigarette and watching tv. He complained to himself that it was too quiet, and grudgingly admitted he was part to blame. He also noted the paucity of good shows on tv at this hour in the morning, and the fact that they were all starving. None of them had eaten breakfast that morning.   
By some kind of mutual agreement, Omi came out around 1:30pm in the afternoon and made some lunch that consisted of sandwiches, salad, and a watermelon. At around 2pm, the other two were at the table, eating the ham n' cheese on wheat bread sandwiches. Aya sliced the watermelon, which fortunately was seedless. [who knows where the seeds would've gone had it been seeded]  
Around 5:45pm, Manx visited. Her visits were rare, but the three left were still in the clouds. Even Yoji wasn't his normal self. She noted that their performance was not superior at all without all members present. Their weakness would not be shown to Schwarz. It must be concealed.  
Manx shook her head at the three sitting at the table, either stirring coffee idly, drinking highly caffienated drinks, or smoking cigarettes by the box. "Schwarz will eat you alive if you stay like this," she remarked.  
Aya silently agreed and promised to himself he would shake himself out of this…when Ken came back.  
"What can we do? We're a team," Omi retorted, a little upset by the little concern she was showing.  
Yoji looked at Manx. Omi was right, of course. Could she reply?  
"If your team is not together, what do you think the departed team member would want you to do? Kill yourselves? What then if he came back and found you all dead? Have you ever thought of that?" she said, astonished at their lack of philosophy and consideration.  
They sighed as one. They had forgotten. They sat for about ten more minutes, and the clocked struck 7:30pm. Aya got up to get his katana, and Omi left to scour his room for his darts, arrows, bow gun, and crossbow. Yoji sat, wire-wristwatch permanently on, smoking his last cigarette from that particular box.  
"How many boxes did you do today?" Manx questioned, a worried crease forming on her forehead.  
"Two," Yoji answered, amused.  
Manx sighed. They had to get away somehow, she reflected. "Promise me you won't open any more today, Yoji, please?" she begged, afraid for his health if he continued to do as he was doing now.  
Yoji was laughing inside, pleased with this new type of attention, but he didn't show it to Manx. He had smoked a long, long time now, and no one could get him to quit. But Manx asked with such earnesty that she had never shown before so he promised to give it some deliberation. "Maybe."  
At that, Manx stood up abruptly. "I have to go now," she explained. "Oyasumi nasai, Yoji." She walked out briskly, and disappeared into the obscure and slightly foggy light.  
The sun was setting, and clouds played across the sky, threatening fog and drizzle for the night. The temperature dropped drastically, and soon it was dark. The rain came as predicted, accompanied by a little sparse lightning and thunder.  
  
By this time, Ken had stopped at the nearest motel he could find. He wasn't too enthusiastic about staying at this dump, but where else would he stay in this rain? [Yes, he thought it was a dump. It certainly looked like a dump, a real junk yard] [Waahhhh, doesn't Ken deserve a 5-star hotel with awesome food and waiters and waitresses and room service and maids?]  
The roof, made of aluminum shingles, was patched here and there in different colors. It looked leaky. It was an old motel, and what used to be white/cream aluminum siding was now reddish in certain areas with rust and wear and tear. The doors were brown and the paint was stripping from them, revealing a mustard color that probably was the original color. Ken hopped off the bike and walked to the first door on the left. A little sign with painted letters, "Welcome, Hiker Motel" "Front Desk," hung above the little blue and red door. Before he reached it, however, a little girl about ten years old came hopping out.   
Her hair was light brown, sort of like Omi's but it was longer and in pigtails. She had green eyes and fair skin, and she was very thin.  
"Hi! My name is Misato! How do you do? You're our only visitor!" she giggled, and beckoned him inside. "My mother will be happy to know we have someone staying!"  
Ken nodded, overcome by this odd welcoming. He went inside, and a woman in her late thirties greeted him. "I see you have met my daughter. My name is Sachiko Migasushida. We live humbly enough in the house 'round back. Welcome to Hiker Motel, we hope you enjoy your stay, although there is nothing here that is pleasant at all. Would you rather stay in one of the rooms in our house or here in the motel itself?"  
Ken was still a little confused by this strange atmosphere and the class of speaking these people used. Obviously they did not grow up here. They were well bred and seemed to be pretty well off. They must have had money before, and run a good motel. "I am sorry, but may I ask, which is better?"  
Mrs. Migasushida smiled sadly. "Well, the motel is in a worse condition that it looks, I must say. After my husband's disappearance, we've been at all ends trying to keep it running and still put food in our stomachs."  
Ken suddenly remembered Weiß. He brushed the thought away as he told Mrs. Migasushida that he'd like to see the motel rooms first before making a decision. She had Misato show him the rooms, one by one.  
  
"Aya, do you think Ken will come back?" Omi asked him around 9pm. Aya nodded, but did not answer. Yoji was silent. They sat in the car, mute, waiting for their orders from Manx. They were supposed to go to a dance club to crash the Schwarz hideout underneath. Even Yoji did not look forward to the mess they would be in within the club, though he went to bars and the like very often.  
Manx's voice came through the comset. "You need to find the back door. Be wary and as quiet as possible. There may be guards you'll have to put out."  
Aya listened closely as the others strained to hear. "By 10:30pm you need to be clear of the bombs. There will be no people due to a misleading "closed" sign for remodeling. You'll need the points on the screen as to where to place the bombs. They are already set and ready to go."  
Aya murmured, "Perfect. Takatori, you are going to die!" and then checked the screen for the map. He spoke into the comset, "Manx, we read you. End of transmission."  
"Wait!" Yoji whispered urgently. It was too late. The connection to Manx was closed and erased. They would not be able to trace back to her unless she called in again. It was a secure line. Only the four Weiß members would be able to use it due to passwords, codes, and info data inserts.  
Omi glanced at Aya. He was putting the comset in the interior of his lapel. It almost seemed as it he didn't hear Yoji, but of course he did. They went on to the back of the old, neglected building to begin their mission.  
It was dark and foggy. A few lights along the alley were on, but that was all. Piles of garbage and other foul-smelling goods littered the narrow pathway. Papers of all types and bags drifted awkwardly across, snagging here and there and sticking. It was an awful alley.  
The three Weiß members crept along that dirty and gloomy alley and turned at the end. It was even narrower here; only one person could go at a time. Aya went first. They passed three apartment doors, then onwards to another building complex. Heavy music and greasy smells of food, alcohol, and gasoline filled the air around them. Omi winced, knowing this type of atmosphere a little too well for his liking.  
Aya opened the heavy door and they all stepped inside. What they saw was beyond belief. And boy, were they in hot water.  
  
Misato pulled at Ken's hand, urging him along towards the house. It was cleaner and more neatly kept than the motel, though it was also rather run-down. It had new white aluminum siding, which was much brighter than that of the motel. The deep green shutters around each of the many windows stood out against the white. It was a two-story victorian home, with a beautiful wrap-around porch and carved designs above and around the pillar-posts. The shingles were a grayish color with a greenish tint, and the door itself was dark green to match the shutters.   
"I wanted the shutters green because it would be just like Anne's house in Anne of Green Gables," Misato explained proudly, for she was only ten and having read such a big book was a great achievement to her. "Isn't it beautiful?"  
Ken nodded. He had read that book in school when he was younger, and he remembered the green shutters and the pale green paint on the house. And it did look very nice against the open fields of grass and dirt. "Did you own a farm here once?" he inquired, looking out to the fields that had become overgrown with weeds.  
Misato grew somber. "That was before my daddy left to find work in the city. We used to have the farm and the motel for our helpers. By the way, what is your name?"  
Ken was a little startled. "Ken…Ken Hidaka." He ended abruptly, not knowing what else to say.  
"Ken. I used to know someone named Ken." Her eyes drifted, and she did not smile. Then she whispered, "My father's name was Ken."  
Of course, no one could think of something to say after such a statement. So Ken just looked at her and kept his grim look. Whatever could he say, anyway? He remained silent. Misato did not seem to mind.  
"I am sorry. I should not have spoiled your day. I suppose you'll want supper, right? I'll go tell mama. If you want to stay in the motel go right ahead and choose a room. If you want to stay in the house, gather your belongings and place them on the porch. We'll meet you sometime soon." With that, she skipped off, singing a little song. Ken walked towards the porch, glad that he had found a place to stay for the night with such kind and generous people. 


	2. Project Bomb Schwarz

It was pitch black. But something was not right. Aya knew the problem as soon as a laser beam ran its criss-cross course along the far wall, ready to come back towards the wall they found themselves leaning against. The door acted as a teleporter! They were now really, truly, and unbelievably inside the Schwarz lair, and were about to become laser-incised fried humans!  
  
Ken sat down to the good dinner of steamed rice, miso soup, several types of sushi, some light tuna-style okonomiyaki, and some dessert.  
"This dinner is very good, Mrs. Migasushida. Tell me, how did you get the soup so perfectly seasoned?" Ken said earnestly, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkins that were worn but very clean.  
Mrs. Migasushida chuckled kindly. "Please, call me Sachiko. It is the family recipe. I shall copy it for you later on. I hope you enjoy your stay. We haven't really much to offer here."  
"I am sure I'll have a nice rest. But I am leaving bright and early tomorrow morning. I am on a journey far away," Ken explained.  
Misato looked up, her eyes huge. "You're only staying one night, Ken? Couldn't you stay longer?"  
Mrs. Migasushida was shocked. "Misato! How impolite! Mind your manners! If he must leave, then he must leave! We cannot change his schedule plans just for our own benefit," she admonished her child severely.  
Ken looked a little uncomfortable. "Oh no, no, I wasn't going anywhere special. In fact, if you would like, I could stay a little longer. Would you like me to help you with anything? Anything at all, I'll be happy to help," he said quickly, recovering himself.  
Misato's eyes practically shone like the stars. "Would you really? Oh please! That would be…that's just the best!" she said, so happy she was at loss for words.  
Mrs. Migasushida was also delighted. "That would be wonderful, is it, Ken? Yes, that would be very good. I do not want to push work upon you, if you don't wish to do something, then just tell me. You need not burden yourself with excess work."  
Ken nodded, pleased that he could make such generous and kind people happy. "What would you like me to do?"  
Misato answered for her mother. "Paint!" she squealed happily. "I'll bet your first impression of this motel was, yuck, it's so ugly! I know it is. It hasn't been painted for a long time now because my mother is too busy to paint and she won't let me do it. I know I can do it, but she just won't let me!" She looked at her mother with as much of a scowl she could muster. But she couldn't; she was ecstatic about Ken's help.  
Mrs. Migasushida was about to reprimand her daughter again but Ken spoke first. "Sure. I can do that. Do you have paint and paint brushes?"  
"Of course! We wouldn't ask you to paint if we didn't have supplies!" Misato told him, helping herself to another bowl of miso soup.   
"Sorry," Ken said sheepishly. The small, delicate cakes were piled high before him. He took one and took a sip of tea. It was also delicious.  
"Even though I'm twelve, mama still thinks I'm a baby," Misato remarked, slurping at her soup. "I don't see how painting is dangerous at all. If it was shingling, that would be a different story."  
Mrs. Migasushida sighed. "I guess you can help him, too," she relented slowly, thinking it over. "You can probably paint the doors."  
Misato was even more overjoyed. "Really, mama? You'll let me?" she paused, and when she saw her mother was actually saying that she could, she let out a whoop. "I'm sure I'll do a good job, I promise!"  
Ken chuckled. It was a rather interesting sight. "You're twelve, are you? You remind me of one of my work partners. He's seventeen." Then he paused, thinking about Koneko no Sumu Ie and the other Weiß members.  
But Misato was interested. "Seventeen? What does he look like?" she inquired, curious about Ken's work and such. She peered over him like a suspicious cat ready to leap.  
Ken shrugged. He wondered if he still had that group picture they took, and stood up slowly. "Excuse me, I think I have one in my bags."  
"Oh, please, finish your dinner first. I'm sure my daughter can wait just a while longer," Mrs. Migasushida said, glancing at Misato reproachfully.  
Ken shook his head. "That's okay, I'm full, anyway. Thank you for the wonderful dinner. It's right over here, so it won't be any trouble at all." He reached into the bag and pulled out the little picture. Misato looked at it, then grinned.  
"This is you," she said, pointing, "And this must be your partner, right? What's his name?" She was looking at Omi, then wondered about the katana Aya had at the side. "What's that sword-thing that man has?"  
Ken chuckled a little nervously. "That's Omi, and that's Yoji. The red-haired guy is Aya-san. We all work in a flower shop called Koneko no Sumu Ie, Kitty in the House."   
Misato contemplated the picture. Yoji had a cigarette in one hand and a flower in the other. Omi carried a little pot of freesia, his darts, Aya his katana and a rose, and Ken had his soccer ball under one arm, and his normal goggle/sweater/jacket/boots wear. He did not have his bugnuk out, fortunately for him. At the moment, he wasn't wearing his usual attire, so Misato did not recognize that outfit. Why does that man, Aya, did you call him? Have that sword?  
Ken shifted. "It's a sort of prized possession." It was true, Aya did take utmost care of it, but he also used it to kill. He couldn't let them know that he was part of an assassin group and he worked as an assassin during the night.  
"Really?" Misato said slowly, as if she didn't believe him. Then she must've thought of something else because then she asked about the flower in the window in the picture.  
Ken grinned. "That's my flower. It's a Gentian." Then he remembered that it was probably dead from lack of water. "That was a long time ago, though."  
"It must have not been so long ago," Mrs. Migasushida remarked, vaguely hinting Ken to talk about it. "You wouldn't have that picture so fresh off and you wouldn't be so eager to let others see. Why did you leave, really?"  
"What? I suppose it's easy to see through," he said, looking at his hands. Mrs. Migasushida remained silent, waiting. She seemed so understanding. So Ken related his little story for the kindly woman to hear.  
  
Aya did not know what time it was. They had gone inside and dodged those laser beams for what seemed eternity. Finally, when at last they seemed at the end of the interminable corridor, the floor gave way. They found themselves falling down endless tunnels of darkness. They got separated, and then Aya knew nothing more.  
He was sitting in a puddle within a dark, damp little cell with rounded walls and a small pad-locked grill-gate. A little light in the shape of a circle came through a hole in the ceiling. Water dripped off all corners, smoothing the wall with its trails. Aya noted that during rainstorms the torrents of water must come through here and erode the walls away. He fervently hoped it would not rain.  
Meanwhile, Yoji was wandering through a maze of metal chambers that seemed to move in every direction depending on each turn he took. He would go through one door to come out again three doors later in the same room. Some rooms only had one door, some had up to six. But it was a never-ending maze. He soon began to feel probed and desolate. He wondered where Aya and Omi were, and finally realized he was alone. Completely and utterly alone.  
Omi, on the other hand, was in the worst of situations. In a similar cell as Aya's, his was a long tunnel filled with slime and deep water. In order to keep out of the water, he had to hang onto small footholds built into the slick walls. The only problem was that they moved back a forth. Sometimes he would find himself at ease, and others in the splits, his legs as far apart as they could possibly go. Once, however, his arms became crossed and his legs far apart, and he fell in. The water was extremely turbulent and metal rock, razors, saws, and spikes came up out of nowhere. A little platform saved him by a millimeter from being cleaved asunder by a metal razor. He soon began to cry in exhaustion and exasperation. [waaaaaahhhhhhhhh poor Omi!!!]  
  
Crawford was grinning silently. Their perfect plan was finally going to annihilate the Weiß crew! Farfello watched the video cameras that focused on the three. Nagi was silently playing with a little kitten that had wandered in. He had no part in this plan until later and did not bother with the other three. Schulderich, however, was having fun probing Yoji. He soon grew tired of this little game, and suddenly noticed that the fourth chamber of death and doom was empty. His little enemy opponent was nowhere to be seen.  
"Crawford," Schulderich said, not sure at all that this plan would work. "Fourth member Ken is not in his doom chamber. Was he with them?"  
Crawford rubbed his chin. "I don't know. But no matter, I'm sure he can't do anything without the other three. Remember? They work as one and without all four they're doomed!" He laughed horridly, the walls echoing.  
  
"Ken! Aya! Yoji!" Omi screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He had once again been saved by that metal block. Obviously Schwarz wanted to torture him for a long time. He sat sullenly upon it, crying out all sorts of names, swears, items he cherished, incoherent words, absolutely anything that came into his mind. One thing he could remember, however, was that only his father could do such a terrible thing.   
Aya sat, the water in the cell about four inches higher than it had been only an hour before. He noticed that some of the water would be going out through the grate-grill that was a foot off the ground. They would not kill him so quickly. Takatori would have to pay for this, also.  
Yoji finally gave up. He was back in that same room with the six doors and the pedestal in the middle. There must be some way to get out without going through the doors. Out of the six times he passed through this room, he had tried all the doors. Each led through several rooms with only one door, and then he'd find himself in that room again. He stared at the pedestal of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love and beauty. The base seemed to be a separate part. He began to look it over.  
  
Ken finished his story. Mrs. Migasushida had begun to wash the dishes, and she listened politely. "So you see, I had to leave."  
Misato had left to gather some laundry, so she hadn't heard the story. Mrs. Migasushida put in her comments. "I think they miss you now that you've left them. Did you ever think that this Omi, your youngest partner, might think it was his fault though it wasn't? He certainly sounds as if he would blame himself."  
Ken pondered this thought. "I suppose he might have. But still, I could never go back and apologize. I would die, first."  
Mrs. Migasushida shook her head. "No, Ken, I am sure they will accept your apology. You were almost like brothers. A quarrel now and then is always to be anticipated. You miss them, don't you? And you also miss more than that. You have a lot to miss, young man."  
Ken nodded, silent. He cleared the table for her and placed all the dishes in the sink. He began to look around for a dry dishtowel to dry the washed dishes.  
"What a good boy you are," Mrs. Migasushida complimented, then continued to speak. "You know, you should go back. What did you say your occupation was?"  
Ken started, and almost dropped the plate he was holding. "Um, I work in the flower shop, too." He added the "too" as if he had already said he did something else, also.   
Mrs. Migasushida's eyebrows raised slightly. It seemed she did not believe him, and that she knew he did something else. But she did not force him to tell her. "I see. Well, I hope you'll take into consideration what I've--"  
Ken coughed. Or, more like choked. He felt compelled to tell her the entire truth, why he left, what his other job was. She glanced at him, worried and curious. He finally spilled it out when she held her silence, waiting.  
"I'm an.....well, I work with the other three to rid the world of the bad and evil. It was getting to me. I just couldn't handle it anymore. I-I'm sorry I ever bothered you with my problems…I'm not supposed to even tell--" he broke off, ashamed and also confused and rather afraid.  
Mrs. Migasushida did not say anything for a while. Ken thought perhaps he had offended her by coming to her place, knowing he was an assassin and killed people. Then she said, quietly, "We can see that you do not kill the innocent." She paused, unsure about something. "My husband used to go out to town twice a month. He wouldn't come back for days at a time. We used to hear stories of the duels he fought. He used to take my eldest, my son, along with. My son used to sit around and move things with his weird powers. It scared me, and my husband used to say he would grow up to be a strong boy. I was afraid he would become too powerful and wanted to see the doctor. We had a row, and--they disappeared together a few years ago. It was awful," she ended, in a whisper.  
Ken looked at her, his eyes full of sorrow. So she knew how it felt to know an assassin. He was not relieved. Such people should not have to deal with such emotions and experiences. "I'm sorry…I-I don't know what to say!" he exclaimed suddenly.  
Mrs. Migasushida smiled her sad smile. "That's okay. There's nothing you can do. But you have to promise me you'll go back and help your friends. I have a feeling they might be in trouble without you. With such people as my husband and others like him, the world would not go 'round without equal but opposite forces to beat them down. Be wary, Ken, my son is also an assassin." The way she said it almost made Ken feel as if he had met this son of hers more than once before. But he thought nothing of it. He had to hurry back to help. He thanked her profusely, promising to visit and write often as he loaded his bike. He was reminded my Misato he had a painting job to do, and they all had a hearty laugh at his departure. He whizzed off, shouting goodbyes on his way down the open dirt road in the fields. 


	3. Confusion and Hysterics

Ken was almost home when his comset beeped in a frenzy of no particular pattern. He stopped alonside the dark road and peered at it. Manx's face and voice filled the screen, though the blurriness made it very hard to discern her facial features. If Ken didn't know her as well as he did, he probably would not recognize her.  
"Siberian, do you read me? You need to hurry, the other…." Her voice was broken with static. It was difficult to hear. "They're in danger…Ken? You need to help…Ken…you have to--" the transmission was broken off. The connection died, and an eerie silence eveloped the dark night air around Ken, closing in like the lining of a coffin.  
He shivered, and hopped onto his bike again, a heaviness now resting on his shoulders like a great haversack of rocks. Manx never, ever called them by their first names during a mission. Not ever. This must be something horrible…he knew he shouldn't have left, anyway. But he had told them he'd be on leave for a week…oh why had he done that? Now they were in great danger, probably dying all because of him… [talk about a burden! Poor Ken…]  
  
The three were still in their messy fix. Aya's cell was filled to about five feet, and if he wasn't as tall as he is, then he would've had to swim and would've tired out. The water was freezing, however, and to keep warm sometimes he tread a little water, careful to keep his head dry. If he got sick, he would most surely die in there. At least he wasn't wearing his normal uniform. They had changed into disguises for ease on this particular mission. They hadn't realized how much it would help.  
He found a small door latch to the outer grill-door. It was locked, but he would have to find some way to open it. But what he didn't know was the worst was still to come.  
  
Crawford, Farfello, and Nagi were enjoying themselves thoroughly. Farfello took over Yoji's torture schemes when Ken did not seem present, so Schuldrich was loafing around, jabbing instant pains at the remaining three whenever he could. Sure, he was supposed to find Ken, but he didn't bother. After all, that was Farfello's job. It was much too fun persecuting Aya in the "pruning cell".  
They would search their memories for scenes they hid from and tried to put far back in their minds. Once they successfully found the weakness, they would create small picture-shows upon the walls. Omi's was giving him his complete and horrid childhood memory, repeatedly, on the walls he was climbing. He lost his balance many times and finally ending in sitting on that black block again.  
Yoji began to see Asuka being killed on all the walls, blood dripping off them and forming puddles. Soon it would flood, but in his agony he did not notice. It seemed to him it was on replay. Someone was putting the scene in slow motion, fast forward, rewind, and normal play. Sometimes it would pause just as Asuka was shot and even more "blood" would spurt from the walls. He was beside himself and was going insane.  
Aya had a similar scene. He watched two scenes, however. One was his sister being hit by the car, the other her funeral. He hated that one most especially. His rage was building up, though of course he couldn't do anything, considering the situation he was in. But ALL of them saw the scene of the other members being killed, all in different ways by different events and people. [usually Schwarz, of course]  
  
Ken soon arrived at the apartments, and seeing nobody there, he went on to see if anyone was at the flower shop. He knew they wouldn't be there, though, but he wanted to check to make sure.  
The flower shop was dark and empty. He sighed, and looked around for any notes or emails that might've been dropped. His mailbox was flooded with "Where are you?"s and "Come back!"s from Omi, with an occassional, "Where the hell are you?" from Yoji. One came from Aya, and it was quite lengthy. At the end, it explained where they were in a code, so Ken went to look. He tried dialing Manx, but of course that didn't work.  
"Okay, behind the club…" he muttered to himself. It was very dark and it was quite windy. He was wearing a black sweatshirt and black jeans and boots. He hated these boots; they were so uncomfortable and clumsy. Of course he had his gloves and bugnuks, and he was also wearing his goggles over a black baseball hat pulled down low above his face. He sidestepped along the wall and noticed the door was left hanging open.   
He managed to peer in, and at the sight of the criss-crossing laser beams he felt a sense of repugnance and disgust. All of a sudden, a small black cat rubbed against him leg and walked in.   
"Wait! Here, kitty, here kitty," he called softly. The cat turned, its greenish eyes glowing. It almost seemed to say: Its all right, come on in! See, I'm not dead, am I? Follow!  
He would have to try, he guessed, and stepped gingerly into the first threshold, bugnuks out as well as a mini flashlight. He grimly took note of the tiny cameras watching the entrance and set to work to disable them.  
  
Unfortunately for Ken, Schuldrich was watching the monitors at that exact moment, having nothing else to do. He spotted the figure almost immediately, though of course he didn't recognize him in his black garb.  
"Intruder," Schuldrich calmly told Crawford, who was busily trying to get the grate-grill in Aya's cell to close, but luckily his efforts were futile. He didn't really pay any attention to Schuldrich, but he heard him.  
"Hmm? Intruder? Manipulate him into the fourth chamber," he said absentmindedly, hitting all the buttons on the keypad, becoming frustrated.  
Schuldrich glanced at him, a little dubious. Then he went about setting the lasers to the second chamber, which was meant for Ken. The figure weaved in and out with practiced skill, stepping around the booby-trapped floor and walls. Schuldrich breathed out at the ease in which this person went through the sure-death course.  
  
Ken, on the other hand, was extremely nervous and felt as though he was walking on a tightrope above a pit of fire. If not for the cat that seemed to know the way, he probably would be toast by now. Suddenly, the little cat turned a sharp corner and disappeared from his sight. He hastened to follow when the floor gave way and he fell into interminable depths.  
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" he screamed, flailing to grab something, anything at all. He fingers found a small ledge, gripping impulsively. It was covered with small little pricks, and if not for his thick leather gloves, he would have bloody mincemeat for hands. He dangled perilously over the endless pit, dark and ominous.   
"Mrreeeoooww," came the cat's sentence of doom. Or at least, that was what Ken thought it to be. The cat was standing on the very ledge he was holding! The green eyes glittered, making Ken shiver and wish he had never been born.  
  
"Ha! I've got him!" Schuldrich crowed happily. Crawford glanced at the screen and saw the figure hanging, waiting for death to arrive. Knowing that it had to be Ken, they soon switched all the horrid scenes the other three were watching to the real-time live version of Ken's persecution.  
Nagi looked on, and watched Ken and Omi. Something was bothering him about Ken, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Something in his mind, his past memories, something in the past was being triggered by the actions of Ken. You could hear him plainly, apologizing to Aya, Yoji, Omi, Sachiko, Misato, oh, everyone. Sachiko? Nagi shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. That name rang a bell, deep within him. What was it?  
Schuldrich did not notice Nagi; no one ever noticed quiet little Nagi. He began to have the floor raised in the "bottomless" "mincing" chamber.  
Suddenly, Nagi remembered, and screamed out loud. "STOP!!!!!" He impetuously gripped at Schuldrich's shirt, trying to get him to stop before it was too late. When he saw that Schuldrich stopped it, he muttered something about being right back, don't lift the floor, and disappeared.  
He kept scolding himself, reprimanding himself. How could he have forgotten? While still a little one, he had met Sachiko. She had been the only kind person to him, ever in his entire life. In Schwarz, he was always ordered around. She had almost been like a mother to him in the short while he spent at her lodgings. Her husband, however, was pure evil. What was he doing? He was repeating exactly after the man he felt so horrid! Oh, what had he done?   
As he went on, reminiscing the olden days, he came upon the chamber door and climbed some stairs to a platform opposite Ken. He called out.   
"Ken! Ken!"  
Ken was so shocked he almost fell off. "Nagi?" he asked increduously, not really meaning to say the boy's name out loud.  
"Yes! How is Sachiko? Is she faring well?" he cried out, unable to keep his worries to himself any longer.  
Ken was even more astonished. How had Nagi known about Sachiko, anyway? "She is fine, although she's--"  
"WHAT? What?!?! What's wrong!?" Nagi screamed in agony. He was being butchered by his own memories, much as Omi had always had.  
"I said, she's fine!" Ken yelled across, trying to calm the hysterical young teenager. "She's running short on money, that's all. And she's worried about her son. She's afraid for him. She's fine!" he called over to Nagi.  
"Her son," Nagi murmured. She didn't have a son, just a daughter. He buried his face in his hands and fled out of the chamber and down the corridors. He was extremely distraught and very hysterical.  
Ken was completely lost in this little scene of emotions. He wondered if it was a trick to see if he had been there. But he thought otherwise. Nagi never EVER acted like that before. Not ever. 


	4. The Final Truth

[Warning: None of this is true…I'm just making everything up about Nagi's past]  
  
Nagi had found solitude within the dark chambers of the private electrical storage room, but now it didn't help one bit. He was being tormented, tortured, by his own memories. Sachiko, the kindly older woman who had fed him without charge and had taken him in as one of her own when she saw he was an orphan and homeless. Her daughter, Misato, his first and very best friend. Even though she was three years younger, she acted much older than that.  
The father. Now that man was the manipulator, the bringer of trouble and great disaster. During the day while he worked, he was fine, but during the night some strange metamorphasis in his mental changed and he became a drunken rapist, and an insane lunatic that stopped at nothing to kill. He often threatened Nagi for coming to their household and changing things from the way it used to be. He wanted him dead more than anyone else; Nagi gave in to his wishes and became a psi-powered being to his whim. Then the day the father left the family for good to kill him, he set up a system of young girls visiting the bar where he often drank and slipped away. He fled, running away as fast and far as he could.  
And now here he was, doing the same exact thing that terrible man had wanted him to do. Why? He didn't know. He had to make it up to Mrs. Migasushida and Misato, his very own "family". He found himself crying bitterly, and his feet were moving him towards Omi's torture chamber. He would be released of his agony first.  
Schuldrich noticed that Omi was no longer struggling. It was dark in the slimy and water-flooded tunnel, and it was difficult to see. That was the reason they did not see another slim figure barely shorter than Omi come to the rescue. When Yoji's cells became dark, they started to wonder. Ken and Aya remained as they were for a long time, so they figured it was nothing and went on torturing all four [ahem, two].   
  
"Why are you doing this?" Omi asked Nagi, who was working silently to release the ropes and tape plastered all over Yoji.  
Nagi didn't know. He just shook his head and continued to work, tears streaming down his face, oblivious to the odd glances and glares he got from the elder and younger members of Weiß Kreuz.  
When Yoji was freed, they set about to drain Aya's "pruning chamber". The liquid was drained slowly, then the lights were dimmed and put out. A flare near the top of the cell was lit so Aya didn't suffocate himself on accident. Omi met him at the little grill-gate and unpadlocked it for him. When Aya saw Nagi, however, he brought out his katana, ready to kill the Schwarz member.  
"No!" Omi cried out, grabbing Aya from behind. "He saved us!"  
Aya didn't stop. He was angry, and he wanted some sort of revenge. Yoji blocked Nagi with his own body, shielding him from the dangerous and deadly blade.  
Omi himself stood before them all, hands held in stop signal. "You can't! You'd still be stuck in there, watching your skin drift away from absorption, if not for Nagi and Ken! Have heart! I know you've got one…Aya! You just can't kill him!" he exclaimed passionately, his face crumbling.  
Aya brought down the katana, but he kept glaring at Nagi as they went to save Ken from the mincing press just six feet below him. His cell was already dark, but there were spotlights. Omi and Nagi both hacked the system and came up with the solution of pretending the lights blew and cutting off the electricity to stop the floor from rising and crushing everything. It worked beautifully.  
"Ken!" Omi cried, running towards the hunched over teenager. He was extremely exhausted from dangling there for hours. He looked at Nagi, who finally said, to Ken:  
"I thank you for helping me. I have repaid your kindness, and now I must flee this place forever." With that, he disappeared much like he had come.  
Only Ken knew what he meant, and he did not explain. What Nagi felt was his own business he could keep. So the four Weiß members went back to their normal assassin and flower shop life at Koneko no Sumu Ie, well, normal for them, at least. 


End file.
